


Goddamn Problem

by blue_rouge



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, M/M, Oral Sex, appreciation for Dean's thighs, slight D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:43:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2287136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_rouge/pseuds/blue_rouge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean once again comes out of his room wearing nothing but a t-shirt and his tight, black, boxer-briefs, hidden slightly under that old robe, Sam knows he needs to take action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goddamn Problem

**Author's Note:**

  * For [energist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/energist/gifts).



> Derek needed some porn involving Dean's dick and I obliged. 
> 
> Set in the MOL bunker at some point during season 8.

When Dean once again comes out of his room wearing nothing but a t-shirt and his tight, black, boxer-briefs, hidden slightly under that old robe, Sam knows he needs to take action. His older brother has been more comfortable than he has been in years, walking around the bunker at a languid pace, accepting this as their permanent home. And Sam is grateful for that, really, he is. But there's a line where Dean has become _too_ comfortable, looking like sin in barely any clothing at all.

Sam tries to tease Dean about it when they cross paths in the kitchen. "You know you that robe ages you like, fifty years Dean. You look like you're about to go get the newspaper from the front lawn and yell at some kids or something."

Dean snorts. "Whatever, Sammy, you love it. And I don't look like an old man, I look more mature. There's a difference."

"Love it? It's a dad-robe Dean. It's awful." Sam hopes his expression isn't betraying that he does kinda like it. And that's the _problem_. With Dean's recent habit of not shaving as often and consequently having a fair amount of stubble in addition to wearing less and less layers of clothing, he looks better than he ever has. He looks like he could give Sam a stern look and Sam would be on his knees in seconds.

"Would you prefer I didn't wear it?" Dean quirks an eyebrow at Sam, and makes to undo the belt on the robe.

"No!" Sam blurts out, too fast. "I mean, no, it's fine. Wear it. Whatever." Sam feels the rush of blood to his cheeks and promptly turns around and doesn’t stop walking until he’s in the living room-type seating area that he's become rather fond of, even if he hasn't accepted the bunker as Dean has.

To his dismay, Dean gives up on whatever he had been planning to do and follows him.

"What...what are you doing?" Sam stops in his tracks.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Dean picks up one of the old pornos left behind by the Men of Letters and settles himself into an armchair across from where Sam is standing. His robe parts as he sits down and Sam is granted an eyeful of Dean's muscled, perfect thighs. Shitshitshit. Sam clears his throat and sits down as far away from Dean as possible, grabbing the closest book and trying to focus on it instead of Dean.

Which, of course, turns out to be impossible. Dean is humming under his breath and smirking to himself, flipping through some ancient edition of "Busty Asian Beauties" like he hasn't seen it all before. Sam finds himself growing more irritated by the second and before he even really decides what he's going to do, he finds himself standing in front of Dean, looking down into his dumb, attractive face.

"What's with the bitch face, Sam?" Dean is still smirking though, and all it does is make Sam more determined.

He sinks to his knees in front of Dean as gracefully as he can, glad for the plush carpet that eases the slight pain of being in this position.

Now it's Sam's turn to smirk as Dean looks down at him, surprised at the sudden change. He scoots himself as close to the base of the chair as possible, nestled in between Dean's bare calves.

Sam runs his hands up Dean's thighs, feeling the tense muscle there, flexed tight as Dean stares down at him with dark, hungry eyes, all the previous amusement gone. The magazine is gone as well, dropped to the side somewhere. It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is the thick cock resting right in front of him, straining against the black material of Dean's underwear as Dean's libido catches up to the fact that Sam is on his knees in front of him.

Sam unties the knot of the robe and pulls it open all the way. Dean doesn't move to stop him, or to do anything really besides keep his eyes focused on Sam. Sam determinedly doesn't falter under the pressure of that gaze, and slides a hand up Dean's shirt, exposing the trail of dark hair there. Sam leans in to nuzzle his nose into, inhaling the musky male scent of Dean that he's become accustomed to over the years, and finally Dean reacts, sliding a hand into Sam's hair at the back of his head. It’s not quite forcing him to stay there, but Sam takes it as a sign of encouragement and moves his head lower to lick at the bulge of Dean's cock through his underwear. The taste of cotton isn't pleasant, but Dean's barely-restrained groan is worth it. Sam mouths at the thin material until he's not sure whether it's soaked because of his spit, or because of the large amount of precome that Dean is leaking.

"Sammy...baby, come on." Dean starts stroking his fingers through Sam's hair and tugs a little bit at the sensitive ends near the base of his neck. Sam arches his neck back in response, his eyes fluttering shut at how good it feels. When he opens them again and peers up at Dean from under his eyelashes, Dean's eyes look completely black with arousal in the dim lighting and his unshaven jaw is clenched tightly. Sam can feel his own dick twitch in his pants.

Thankfully, Dean doesn't remove his hand from Sam's hair when he leans forward again, this time pulling Dean's beautifully hard, thick cock out. Sam can feel his mouth water slightly and he can't resist licking a stripe up one of the prominent veins on Dean's dick and lapping up the small burst of salty fluid that he gets in return.

"Sam, fuck. Stop teasin'." Dean's voice sounds strained and Sam allows himself a small, pleased smile before he grips the base of Dean's erection tightly and takes as much as he can in his mouth at once. He takes a moment to savor the weight of Dean's cock in his mouth before he starts moving his head up and down, taking it a little deeper each time. Dean's fingers are gripping his hair so tightly it hurts, but it just turns Sam on even more.

A stream of filth starts to pour out of Dean's mouth like always. "Shit, baby. So good. Your pretty lips wrapped around my cock like you were born to do this. Didn't even have to ask you to do this. You just wanted it so bad, didn't you Sammy? Wanted my cock filling up your mouth, feeding you my come."

Sam makes a humming sound in agreement, causing Dean to curse and thrust up into Sam's throat, cutting off all air flow. But Sam takes it all, wants to take it all, and it isn't until Dean tugs his head back sharply that air returns to his lungs. Sam knows he must look obscene, his mouth open and panting, lips swollen from sucking his big brother's dick. A slight whine escapes his throat before he can stop it, and Dean shakes his head. "Don't wanna hurt you, Sam."

"Didn't hurt." Sam's scratchy voice probably isn't helping his case, but he really really wants his mouth back on Dean's dick _now._ "Please, Dean, come on. Wanna taste your come."

Dean moans at that, closing his eyes for a brief second. "Okay baby boy, but don't force yourself."

And just like that Sam is back on Dean's cock, suckling at the tip before he forces the thick length back down into his throat. He can feel spit dribbling down from his mouth down to the hand he has jerking the part of Dean's dick that he can't fit in his mouth, but he doesn't care. He moans, partially because he's enjoying this so much, but also because he knows it will drive Dean crazy.

" _Sam_. God, Sam. Such a slut for my cock, aren't you? Makin' it all wet and messy like you're gonna be riding my dick or somethin'."

That just makes Sam moan again, and if he didn't want Dean to come in his mouth so badly right now, he would already be in Dean's lap, sinking down onto his cock. Shit. He pushes his hips forward, trying to get sweet friction on his dick by rubbing against the chair.

Even though Sam is still swallowing Dean down as far as possible, Dean still notices Sam's movement. "Sam. Stop. Not allowed to come yet. Nnnngh."

The little brother in Sam is irritated at the command, _he'll come if he wants, damnit,_ but on the other hand it's ridiculously hot that Dean's telling him what to do while he's using Sam's mouth to get off. Dean begins to pump his hips up, controlling the pace, and Sam can tell he's close.

"Want my come, baby boy? Want to drink down your big brother's load of come?" Sam tries to nod as best he can, holding onto Dean's thighs for support as his mouth gets fucked exactly like he wanted.

"Good."

And that's all the warning Sam gets before Dean is coming hard into Sam's mouth and down his throat. Sam swallows it down, bit by bit, and softly sucks Dean through his orgasm. After a few minutes, Dean begins petting Sam's head, whispering praise as he slowly withdraws out of Sam's mouth. Sam rests his head on top of Dean's thigh as Dean tucks himself back in. He feels blissed out and content, even though his dick is throbbing angrily in his jeans, demanding attention.

"Wanna come now, baby?" Dean smirks down at him, looking satisfied as hell and Sam realizes he's literally not going to get off that easily.

"Dean. You know I do." Sam knows it would take one stroke of Dean's warm, rough hand wrapped around his dick and he'd be shooting off like a rocket.

"Hmmm." Dean looks down at him appraisingly and slips a finger into Sam's pliant mouth. Sam sucks at it automatically, swirling his tongue around the digit.

"Think I could get you to come just from riding my fingers?"

Sam was done for. 


End file.
